


butterball

by alohacowboy



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alohacowboy/pseuds/alohacowboy
Summary: today's writing recipe includes ONE golden retriever puppy (an argument could be made that there are TWO, though :D)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	butterball

**Author's Note:**

> mood: currently feeling attacked by this terrible photoset: https://charcoalsuns.tumblr.com/post/55345677235/but-neither-do-i

The sound of the front door bell is barely noticeable under the din of barking and twenty-odd people all speaking at once. Merlin looks up from correcting a terrier’s take on 'shake' just long enough to see someone’s come inside, then refocuses on the dog.

'Rex,' he chides, gently. 'I know you’re bored, but once we get past this we’ll be able to learn more interesting things. Leon, please try again.'

'Shake, boy,' Leon tries, and the terrier looks at the man appraisingly for a long moment.

'Rex, shake,' Merlin says firmly, and the terrier's paw slowly leaves the floor until Leon can take it in his hand and hold it with a huge smile.

While this breakthrough moment is occurring, a man has come to stand at the edge of the practice floor. He’s dressed in an elegant suit, slate gray lapels with a richly red tie. He’s absolutely covered in dog hair, the cause of which is very probably the puppy using its leash to the fullest extent possible. It strains towards the other dogs, tail wagging so hard the entire back half of the puppy is moving with it.

When he sees Merlin looking, the man smiles hesitantly. He gives him an aborted half-wave with the hand that doesn’t have the end of the leash wrapped around it three times, and Merlin stands and keeps an eye on the two dozen pet parents he’s teaching as he weaves around them towards the new puppy, who lunges for him the second Merlin makes eye contact.

'Hello there,' he murmurs, crouching down. The puppy is ecstatic, rubbing its head up under his offered fingers before rolling over and presenting its stomach for petting, which he gives with both hands. The little puppy's tail might be in danger of sprain if it wags any harder. 'Aren’t you excited.'

'His name is Butterball,' the man in the suit says miserably. Up close, there are unmistakable teeth-marks in his glossy leather shoes. 'Sorry, he’s— he doesn’t have the best manners.'

'He’s very young,' Merlin observes with a small smile, letting Butterball have one of his fingers to teethe on. 'And that’s what we’re here for. Would you like to sign up for a class?'

'I did,' the man says, looking even more hangdog. 'I mean, I’m already signed up for this class. I just....haven’t been able to make it before today.'

Merlin's eyebrows rise; this is the third session, and the class starts at six in the evening. It’s now seven-thirty. 'I think you may need to pick a different class, Mr.—?'

'Call me Arthur,' the man says tiredly. 'And this is the only one I can make it to. Theoretically.'

Now Merlin frowns at the puppy, who’s investigating his pockets with zeal. 'Arthur, raising a puppy requires a great deal of time and effort, and if you can’t make time--'

'I know that, okay?' Arthur interrupts, sounding exhausted. 'Trust me, I am well aware that puppies are a lot of work, but— look, it’s complicated, and....y’know what, I’m just going to go. Thanks.'

'Wait,' Merlin says, hand on Butterball’s leash. 'Stay.'

There are a two reasons he says it. One is the perfect trust and bright-eyed focus of the puppy currently chewing on the ratty cuffs of his jeans; Merlin is certain Butterball will be a joy to teach, once some of his energy has been bled off.

Secondly, if Merlin is being honest, is because Arthur has kind eyes.

'I didn’t mean to sound like I was scolding you,' Merlin says, rubbing behind Butterball's ears as the puppy rubs his face into Merlin's abdomen. 'If this is a recurring problem, I can stay a little later most nights. It’s no trouble.'

'Really?' Arthur asks, expression cautiously hopeful. 'I mean, I can pay you extra, of course--'

'No extra,' Merlin says, waving it away. 'Why don’t you bring Butterball to the back corner? It looks like we’ll need to brush up on his leash training, for a start.'

'-- you have to train them to walk on leashes?' Arthur says, in the tones of the doomed.

Butterball succeeds in fitting himself into his largest apron pocket. Merlin bites his lip. 'And wear collars.'

'Oh,' Arthur says faintly.

Merlin tries to look encouraging. 'Let’s get started, then? It looks like we have a lot to work on.'

\----

As suspected, Butterball is a fast learner. He is also hyperactive, clumsy, and a little bit of a goofball but also endlessly brave and curious.

'I don’t even have a park near my apartment building,' Arthur admits one evening, lightly tugging to pull Butterball away from an unusually riveting bush. 'But I’ve been thinking about moving.'

Butterball pulls on the leash again. 'Hey, pup, leave the squirrels alone now.'

Butterball's history is one that’s depressingly common to Merlin, as the operator of a pet store and shelter: a box of unwanted, too-young puppies abandoned in a public place, in this case a school, and Arthur's young niece who’d decided to smuggle one home in her backpack.

'My sister is allergic to the little guy, and, well, I didn't just have his little face to contend with, my niece has some real puppydog eyes on her as well: Uncle Arthur got conned into taking in this runt.'

'That’s very sweet of you,' Merlin says, and Arthur ducks his head with a smile.

'Yeah, I--'

'And very foolish,' Merlin adds sternly. 'Pets, dogs especially, require a great deal of love and attention and should never be purchased or picked up on a whim--'

'Yes, thank you, I _know_ that,' Arthur grumbles, but his smile doesn’t fade, and the look he aims at Merlin from under his lashes could even be called fond.

'It’s very important,' Merlin grumbles, nearly tripping as Butterball crosses to investigate a patch of dandelions that have grown through the pavement cracks.

'Trust me, I....' Arthur trails off, looking up at the dark sky. 'Hey, did you feel—?'

A drop of rain hits Merlin's nose, and, when he turns his face up, his cheek. 'But the forecast didn’t have any--'

The deluge is so sudden it draws a gasp from Merlin and a curse from Arthur. Butterball yelps in dismay and tries to hide behind Arthur's legs, tangling the leash around the two of them, and their rush towards shelter is almost a pratfall into the nearest mudpuddle.

'Your new name is Moron, moron,' Arthur growls at the puppy, tucking him under his arm. 'Merlin, hurry up!'

The store isn’t far away, but the rain is falling so hard it stings on contact and Merlin doesn’t resist being pulled into a jog and dragged along. They reach a building with a nearly useless awning out front. They crowd in under it shoulder to shoulder and, Merlin discovers with mild surprise, hand in hand.

'Where did that even come from?' Arthur says, angling his head to look up at the clouds attempting to drown them. Propped up against his chest, Butterball shivers and whines. 'Yeah, just— wonderful. How long are we going to be stuck here, do you think?'

'Hard to say,' Merlin murmurs, fingers twitching unconsciously against Arthur's palm.

Arthur's eyes flick down to their hands, and he looks as surprised as Merlin feels. 'Um.'

Merlin looks out into the rain. 'Well, it’s not all bad,' he says bracingly, and gives Arthur's hand the slightest squeeze. 'I like the rain.'

'Yeah,' Arthur says, sounding dazed and a bit hoarse. 'I, uh--' Arthur's answering squeeze is a little more firm. 'The. The rain can be nice.'

Merlin smiles a bit soppily.


End file.
